


Broken Hand

by writingbayot (Verhaal)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, as i wrote this, goddaammit tooru, i say to myself, iwaoi - Freeform, stop having injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 14:12:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11693325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verhaal/pseuds/writingbayot
Summary: Thoughts of a smooth hand hitting volleyballs with grace that only Oikawa Tooru can exude ran on Hajime's mind, but it was all wishful thinking.Tooru will never be able to play again.





	Broken Hand

Hajime turned Tooru's hand over, traced his finger down the tendons, pulling and dragging the skin on his knuckles with one fingertip. 

It was soothing to touch his bestfriend like this. Whenever Hajime would feel down, Tooru would always offer his hand in support. Hajime would clasp his hands, feel the smooth skin that contrasted with his own blistered ones, and wonder for a moment how Tooru manages to keep his hands pristine despite the immeasurable hours he spends on hitting a volleyball over and over again. 

Sometimes, Hajime would voice out the ridiculous question, only to get a laugh out of Tooru and a joke about how hand creams work wonders. Always, Hajime would shake his head in chagrin, not daring to ask anything more with the certainty that he would just get stupid answers.

But he wouldn't stop tracing the smooth skin he held in his hands. 

It was like a routine, and soon enough, Hajime was confident enough to say he knew Tooru's hands well - from the lines that ran on his palm, to the soft scar his bestfriend acquired from practicing too much - Hajime knew them well. 

It was this confidence, in the confines of the small hospital room, that made Hajime close his eyes and run his thumb aimlessly on Tooru's hands. But when all there was to feel were open scars and ugly welts, a broken finger and damaged nerves, pain clawed at Hajime from the inside out. 

He held the other's hand tighter on his own, but Tooru doesn’t budge and Hajime opened his eyes, turned Tooru's hand over again, looked at the skin of his palm. Hajime knows Tooru's hands well, or he used to. 

He looked at Tooru's new skin and pretended that when his bestfriend wakes up he will be unscathed, like he was before. Thoughts of a smooth hand hitting volleyballs with grace that only Oikawa Tooru can exude ran on Hajime's mind, but it was all wishful thinking.

Tooru will never be able to play again.

He glanced up, just to be sure, but Tooru was still asleep, so under the shadows of the setting sunlight streaming from the barely open hospital windows, Hajime let himself cry.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel so insecure writing IwaOi but I did it. :)


End file.
